


The Start of Something New

by motherbearof3



Series: The Detective & The Defense Attorney [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Calhola, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Maybe - Freeform, Slow Burn, The start of something, more tags as this goes because who knows how long it will be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-05 13:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20489558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Rita Calhoun never expected she'd be asking SVU's senior detective for help. Then again, she never expected to be shopping in a baby store. Then when her pride gets the better of her, she ends up needing his help again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much fun writing Rita and Fin. Recently, I wondered how they might have gotten together and this was born. There should be at least one more chapter, but you never know how much fun they might get into. ; )

Rita Calhoun was drowning. Drowning in a sea of pastel colors, soft fabrics and the scent of baby powder. She wondered what had possessed her to accept the invitation to begin with. One of her sorority sisters from Harvard and her husband had adopted twin girls from Russia and was holding what Rita had coined a Meet The Babies Barbecue at their summer home in the Hamptons. The invitation included a photograph of the four of them and their two rescue dogs of unknown breed, smiling for the camera; the perfect family. Rita shook her head, even as a woman walked by pushing a toddler in a stroller and wearing an infant strapped to her chest. Who was she kidding, she thought. She accepted the invitation to prove to everyone that she wasn’t a bitter, single, childless woman of forty….something. That she didn’t need a boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse or child to have a happy fulfilling life. About to admit defeat and ready to go buy two savings bonds -- people still gave those to children, didn’t they? -- the defense attorney turned on her Jimmy Choo’s to leave the baby superstore when she spotted a familiar profile across a zebra striped row of dark wood and white cribs, all with brightly colored mobiles spinning dizzily over them. 

“Detective!” she called in her best courtroom voice. “Detective Tutuola.”

Odafin “Fin” Tutuola paused where he was looking at MLB gear in toddler sizes. It was never too early to be a Mets fan, as far as he was concerned, and he was there to buy a shirt for his grandson, Jaden. The voice was familiar and he turned his head and saw the figure -- a shapely one at that -- that matched it, bearing down on him from another aisle over. She looked uncharacteristically flustered. And definitely out of her element.

“Counselor,” he greeted her with a nod. “What’re you doin’ here? Don’t tell me you’ve had a secret family all these years?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you for assistance,” Rita assured him brusquely. Then continued her voice softening and becoming a little less like she had him on the witness stand when he bristled slightly. “You have children, don’t you? I mean, you have experience with them. Buying things for them.”

“Well,” he drawled realizing she meant no harm with her tone, “my son managed to make it to adulthood, and I have a grandson now. So yeah, you could say I have experience with children.”

“Good. So, what would you suggest I buy two -- hold on,” Rita reached into her purse for the invitation and thrust it at him. “These two children.”

Fin took the glossy card and looked at the photo. 

“Girls.”

“I assume so, from the dresses and hair bows.”

“How old are they?”

“I have no idea.”

“You buyin’ them clothes? What size?”

“Detective.” 

Rita’s voice held an air of frustration. She didn’t know any of those things. How was she supposed to buy gifts? The experienced member of the SVU squad saw a small amount of panic in the lawyer’s eyes. Eyes that were brown. Not dark brown like Olivia’s, but lighter; the color of a rich warm caramel sauce. He’d never stood close enough to discern their color before. Fin might appear to be rough around the edges, but he couldn’t resist a damsel in distress. Even when that damsel had represented murderers and rapists. Everyone had a job to do. He mentally shrugged.

“Okay. Usually when people have parties like this, they have a registry, so you know what they need or want. Do you know if they have one of those?” he asked.

“You mean like a bridal registry?” 

Fin nodded, handing her back the invitation.

“Did this come with a list of places they are registered?”

Rita thought back. There had been a piece of paper with the invitation that had directions and something else on it. But she knew where her friends lived, so she hadn’t paid it any mind and put it in her recycling. She cocked her head and bit her lip.

“Maybe. But I don’t have it.”

“Well, this place is usually top on people’s list for a baby registry. Let’s go see if they have one.”

Fin took her by the arm, which was slender but with underlying muscle he noticed, and led her to the customer service counter where there was a kiosk with a screen. A few minutes later, Rita held a printout in her hands and was feeling better; knowing she had some direction as to what to buy.

“Now look,” the detective pointed out with a finger, “it shows you how many of each thing they want and even their sizes. Guess with twins you need two of everything.”

He was standing close enough to her that he would have expected to smell some kind of expensive perfume. But all he picked up was the clean scent of a mild shampoo from her long hair that was pulled into a low ponytail. Fin liked a woman who didn’t cover herself in a cloud of artificial fragrance. Maybe the defense attorney wasn’t as high maintenance as she looked.

Rita was asking him a question and he had to force his mind back to it, as it had started to drift toward wondering if her hair was as soft as it looked.

“....don’t understand this sizing. How can twelve months be a size? Wouldn’t that be their age?”

“It’s also a size. Twelve months, eighteen months, twenty four months; then you get into toddler sizes. Like Jaden, he’s a big boy. He wears a 3T but he won’t be three for a few more months,” Fin said, his tone filled with pride. “But they look older than that. Must be small for their age.”

Rita ran her eyes over the man beside her, who was taller than she in heels and sported broad shoulders, biting back a flirtatious comment that floated onto her tongue about how the boy must take after his grandfather. What was she doing? The detective had simply provided her with some much needed assistance in an area she had no knowledge. It was time to thank him and get on with finding something to purchase. The party was that coming weekend. She looked back at the list in her hand, composing a better sentence, and then back at him.

“Thank you, Detective. I really appreciate your help. But I don’t want to keep you from your own shopping. I think I can manage from here,” Rita said, taking a half step away from him and the clean scent with her.

*****

Rita had just curled up with a glass of wine and Giorgio on her lap when her phone rang.

“Calhoun.”

“Rita, darling, must you sound like a lawyer all the time?”

Narrowing her eyes, Rita surveyed the gifts from the baby store across the room, and wondered if they would let her return them even though they’d been wrapped. Not by her of course. She paid extra to have them wrapped there.

“Mel. _ Darling _. Must you sound like a socialite all the time?”

She used her friend’s college nickname deliberately, knowing she had gone by Melissa since marrying her Wall Street husband. 

“No, sweetie, don’t pull the doggy’s tail,” the lawyer heard her former classmate say in a Mommy Voice before replying with a cultured laugh.

“Rita that really takes me back. You’re the only person who calls me Mel anymore.”

“Actually, you’re the one who called me.”

“Yes, I was following up with people who haven’t RSVP’d for this weekend. Are you coming to meet the girls? I didn’t get your email.”

Rita rolled her eyes, knowing this was a bald-faced lie, because she had sent her email with a read receipt. She sent all her work emails that way, and out of habit, tended to send personal ones the same. And she’d gotten the receipt. But she played along, knowing her friend had an ulterior motive.

“Of course I’m coming, Mel. You know I wouldn’t miss it,” she assured the newly adoptive mother. 

“Oh I’m so glad! I’ve been telling the girls all about their Auntie Rita,” Melissa gushed. Then, “So I have an accurate number for the caterer, are you bringing a plus one?”

There it was. The not so subtle attempt at finding out if she was seeing anyone. This happened a few times a year from the few close friends she still had from college; Rafael Barba included. He just wasn’t subtle about it. Neither had she been, telling him several times he was being stupid when he would show up at her door with some bottle of alcohol when Olivia Benson was seeing that stuffed shirt Tucker from IAB. So many times she wanted to share some things about him with the SVU Lieutenant, but decided she didn’t want anyone else knowing about that chapter of her life that didn’t already. Rita took a deep breath, a sip of wine and smoothed Giorgio’s fur from head to tail before replying.

“I know you’re expecting me to say no, Mel, so I’m going to surprise you by saying yes, in fact, I am.” 

She was saved from being cross examined by a crash in the background, followed by dogs barking and children crying.

“Rita, I have to go. See you Saturday!” 

The lawyer sat there, phone in one hand for a few minutes after the call ended wondering what had possessed her to tell her friend she was bringing someone to the party. She’d never felt compelled to show up with a plus one before. In silence of the room, she wondered if that was her grandfather clock ticking or her biological one. Giorgio nudged her hand and brought her out of her reverie into the reality of where the hell was she going to come up with a date for this party less than a week away. 

By Friday, she was no closer to having a date than she had been after the phone call. Her first thought had been to bribe Rafael with a bottle of his favorite scotch and two tickets to a Broadway show, but he reminded her that Melissa already knew about him and Olivia and if he showed up as her date, their classmate would know Rita had lied. She chewed on the inside of her lip -- that didn’t show -- as she rode the elevator in the courthouse, mentally reviewing the men she’d had recent dates with and rejected all of them for cause. No, none of them would do. Not to mention, she really didn’t want to see any of them again. The door opened and she strode out, her mind still on any potential plus-one’s or if she could suddenly come down with a communicable disease that would preclude her from being around children; when her progress halted by a collision with a broad chest.

“Whoa, counselor! Where’s the fire?”

Fin grasped her upper arms to steady her. Rita looked up into the detective’s eyes and noticed for the first time they were a unique brown shade. They were like a piece of sea glass she found once on the beach as a child that looked brown in some light and green in others. As he smiled at her, she saw more of the green come through.

“I’m sorry, Detective. I - I was thinking about something.”

“I could see that. You good?”

His grip loosened when he was confident she had her footing.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Did you get your presents bought? For that party?” Fin asked.

“What? Oh, yes. Yes, I did. Thank you again for your help,” Rita replied. 

She tore her gaze from his eyes and was then distracted by his attire. The normal casually-dressed detective was wearing a smart suit and tie, looking more like a lawyer than a cop. 

“Changing professions, detective?”

“Nah, Liv makes me wear this get up when I have to testify.”

He pulled a face and reached up to loosen the knot at his neck. It was a move that the woman had seen men do thousands of times but on him suddenly found more than a little sexy. 

“But I’m done for the day. The week in fact. Ready for the weekend. How ‘bout you?”

“That party you helped me shop for is tomorrow,” Rita replied and then she suddenly had a thought. It was a crazy thought, and she tried to push it from her mind but it didn’t want to go away as she stood there, looking at the detective.

“What, counselor? You look like you want to ask me something.”

“It’s crazy, and I’m sure you have something better to do,” she hesitated.

“Better to do than what?” Fin’s curiosity was piqued.

“Go to the party with me. I, uh, kind of told them I was bringing a plus one.” 

A faint blush crept across her cheeks.

“And you don’t have a date.” He finished for her. Rita shook her head with a sheepish smile.

Ordinarily Fin would have made an excuse. Being a pretend date wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. Especially at a party full of snooty people who went to Harvard and had a vacation home in the Hamptons. He knew the defense attorney had gone to school with ADA Barba and saw the address on the invitation. But something about this lady lawyer intrigued him. He got the feeling there was more to her than met the eye.

“What time should I pick you up?”

It was a rare occasion that found Rita Calhoun without words, but this was one. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Closing it with a snap of her teeth, she swallowed and searched for a reply that wasn’t ‘Huh?’ After another beat that had Fin putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet as he watched her reaction she was able to form a sentence. But it still wasn’t as poised as she’d have liked.

“Um, the party starts at one and it takes about two hours to get there, so eleven o’clock?”

“Make it ten. Holiday weekend traffic.”

Rita nodded. 

“Okay. I’ll be ready at ten o’clock. Thank you, detective, I really appreciate this. I’ll owe you one if you need a plus one for the next widows and orphans benefit.”

She took a step sideways to pass him and leave. Fin reached out and grabbed her arm, his fingers warm through her blouse.

“I could look it up, but it might be better if you just give me your address, counselor,” he said.

“Oh. Right.”

Rita fished in the outer pocket of her briefcase and pulled out a business card and a pen. On the back she scribbled her home address and handed it to him. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hurried away before she could change her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wardrobe dilemmas and the date takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could have been twice as long if I had introduced more people at the party, but I wanted to keep the focus on our pair. 
> 
> Thanks for indulging me by reading this and thanks to Dick Wolf and NBC for giving us these characters to play with.

That evening, Giorgio watched as his mistress paced around her brownstone, muttering to herself. The pacing and muttering wasn’t unusual. The cat was a frequent audience for Rita’s courtroom arguments before they made it to the jury, but these were new words.

“What was I thinking? How can I take that man to Melissa’s party? I don’t know anything about him, Georgie!”

Rita made another lap around her spacious living room and into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of wine. Giorgio waited patiently in his spot on the couch for her to come back.

“I said, I don’t even know his real name!”

She waved her arms in frustration, nearly sloshing wine over the edge of the stemless wine glass.

“I mean, really, what kind of a name is Fin? Is he a fish?”

The cat meowed in reply.

“Oh, so now you have an opinion? And yes, I know I can’t change my mind now.”

The woman took a large sip of wine. 

“All right, let’s go find something to wear tomorrow. Labor Day weekend is always hard, because summer is technically over, but people are still going to be wearing white.”

In another part of town, the man who was not a fish was having his own wardrobe dilemma. It wasn’t that he didn’t have stylish clothes, he snorted, looking in his closet. Hell, he hung out with famous rappers and R&B artists from time to time. But knowing what to wear to something like that and knowing what to wear to the Hamptons for a weekend party was another thing. But Fin was a smart man and knew when to ask for help. He picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Hey, Liv,” he said when his friend and lieutenant answered, “is Barba there? I need his help.”

In the Benson apartment, Olivia, Noah and Rafael were on the couch, watching a movie. Since they’d become a couple, the ADA’s Friday nights were for re-educating himself on kids’ entertainment. She handed the phone over Noah’s head to the man on his other side.

“Fin for you.”

Rafael’s forehead crinkled in surprise, but he took the device.

“Detective. What can do for you?”

“I need some fashion advice.”

“Fashion advice? Going to the Met Gala this year?”

“Uncle Rafa!” Noah said. “Shhhhh!”

“Noah,” his mother said warningly.

“It’s okay Liv. I’ll take this into the kitchen. Hang on Fin.”

Rafael extricated himself from the nest of blankets and pillows Noah had built around them and moving the boy’s legs from across his lap, rose and walked around the counter. Leaning against it with his back to mother and son he spoke again.

“Sorry. What’s that you said? Fashion advice?”

“Yeah. I’m going with Calhoun to some party in the Hampton’s tomorrow. I just wondered what you’d wear. Just remember, I’m not a suspenders kinda’ guy.”

“You’re going with her? How did she rope you into that? She asked me to be her fake date, but a lot of those people know both of us and know that I’m with Liv now.”

Rafael turned his head enough to glance at the woman on the couch. Hearing her name, she turned her head and caught his eye, giving him a smile.

“I didn’t call to get your blessing, counselor,” Fin said sharply. Barba’s words touched a nerve and he didn’t know why the prosecutor’s surprise that he was going with the defense attorney annoyed him.

“Right. Well, it won’t be too dressy,” Rafael told him. “The house is on the beach, so Mel will probably have people mingling on patio that leads down to the sand. I’d say you would be fine in a dress shirt and jacket. No tie. You could wear jeans if you want. Or casual pants. Like some of the things you wear for work.”

“Okay, that gives me some ideas. Thanks. I’ll let you get back to movie night. Did I hear The Lego Movie?”

“Lego Batman,” Rafael told him. “You’re welcome. And detective?”

“Yeah?”

“Rita isn’t as tough as she likes people to think.”

“Yeah, I already figured that out.”

The men bid each other goodbye and Rafael returned to the couch. When the movie ended and Noah was dispatched to brush his teeth, Olivia asked him what the call was about. Her eyebrows rose when he told her.

“They’re going on a date?”

“Not a real date. Rita just needs to take someone. Her mouth tends to move faster than her brain when it comes to her sorority sisters and she told the woman who is having the party she was bringing one,” he explained.

“But -- Fin? And Rita?.”

“I’m sure most people said the same thing about us, Liv.”

He laughed and leaned over to kiss her.

“Besides it’s not even a real date.”

Rita was telling herself the same thing the next morning as she put the finishing touches on her appearance. It was past September first and she couldn’t bring herself to wear white pants, but the weather was still summer like so she wanted light fabrics and colors. She ended up choosing a pair of skinny legged denims in pale pink and a striped blouse. Laying out a sweater in case it was breezy on the ocean, she stepped into a pair of flats and ran a final brush through her hair. She was leaving it down, since she didn’t want to look too much like a lawyer around her socialite friends.

Promptly at 10 o’clock her doorbell rang. Giorgio ran beside her to answer it, like he usually did. She suspected he thought he was a dog sometimes. Opening the door she found her date standing there, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans that were topped with a light green dress shirt, open at the neck and a gray sport coat. Rita’s first thought was the green shirt made his eyes look more green than usual.

“Mornin’,” he said with a smile, taking in her clothing; the most casual he’d ever seen her and her hair, down and framing her face.

“Hi. Just let me get my -- Georgie!” Rita interrupted herself as the cat darted out past her and down the steps to the sidewalk. “Bad cat! Come here.”

She started down the steps after him and he ran a few feet away.

“He’s never done this before,” she told Fin.

The man wasn’t exactly a cat person and wasn’t sure how to go about helping but figured it couldn’t be harder than cornering a perp.

“I’ll go around and come from behind,” he replied, and walked between two parked cars and away from the feline who sat on the sidewalk looking at his mistress.

The detective and the defense attorney spent almost half an hour trying to corral the cat before Giorgio finally decided the can of cat food Rita opened was enticement enough and ran into the house to sit beside his bowl as if he’d been there all along. Muttering that this was the last treat he’d be getting for a long time, she dumped the food into the dish and grabbed her purse, meeting Fin in the entryway. He had stepped inside, taking a curious peek at where she lived and picked up the wrapped gifts.

“Thank you, I nearly forgot about them. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into him,” she apologized, locking the door behind them. “Now we’re probably going to be late.”

“No worries,” Fin replied. “We’ll just make an entrance is all. Make sure everyone sees you and your date.”

He grinned and placing the hand not carrying the packages at the small of her back, directed her to a higher end sedan parked at the curb and opened the passenger door for her. Rita wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to drive, but she relaxed into the leather seats as he put the gifts in the back seat and made his way around to the driver’s side and climbed in beside her. In the close confines of the car, warmed from the sun through the closed windows, she got a whiff of his cologne. It was subtle; not strong and overpowering like some men preferred, or even crisp and slightly sassy like the one Rafael wore. No, this scent was earthy and intensely masculine. It teased her nostrils and other parts of her body, making her shift in her seat.

“Are you warm? Sorry, I’ll turn down the air.” 

“No, just enjoying these comfortable seats,” she lied. “Nice ride, detective.”

“Thanks.” 

The car in front of them stopped suddenly and he slammed on the brakes, making the gifts in the back tumble off the seat and a loud thud come from the trunk. Biting back a curse, Fin looked at his passenger.  
  
“You okay? What an idiot. Hope nothin’ in those boxes are breakable.”

“I’m fine and so are the gifts. But what on earth is in your trunk? A body?”

Fin hesitated for a moment before explaining.

“That would be Jaden’s car seat. This isn’t exactly my car. It’s my son in law’s. Alejandro. Well, his and my son Ken’s car. Alejandro’s a doctor.”

He glanced at Rita. He had her attention for the admission he wasn’t necessarily planning on making.

“I borrowed it for today.”

“You don’t have a car?”

I hadn’t even crossed her mind that perhaps he didn’t. Even she had one, although it spent more time tucked into its garage cubby than driven. The thought reminded her she should take it for a drive and get it serviced.

“I do, but I didn’t think you wanted to show up to your friends’ party in it.”

“Detective, I don’t care what you drive.” 

Rita reached out impulsively and put her hand over his where it lay on the gear shift.

“You haven’t seen my truck,” he chuckled. “It’s from my UC days and it was old and beat up then. And it doesn’t like to run when it rains.”

She laughed.

“Sounds like the heap Rafael drove in college. I lost track of the number of times I had to push it so he could pop it into gear and get it started.”

“Barba knows how to drive?”

“Of course. His father made sure he did.”

Rita’s voice trailed off. It wasn’t her place to share the things Rafael’s father made sure his son learned, telling him a real man needed to be able to do. Fin got the impression she felt like she’d overstepped and changed the subject. 

“So how much do your friends know about me? How long have we been together? Do I have to have a different occupation?”

“They don’t know a thing. I just told Mel I was bringing someone. So you just be you, Detective,” she assured him, patting his hand and realizing hers was still covering his and moved it back to her lap. Fin’s felt cold with the loss. “However, I would like to be able to call you something other than Detective.”

“Everyone calls me Fin.”

“That,” Rita pursed her lips, “is a nickname. What is your given name?”

“It’s Odafin. But no one calls me that. ‘Cept my grandfather that I was named after.”

“Odafin,” she tried out the name and found she liked the way it rolled off her tongue. She shrugged. “Now there’s two people.”

Once they got out of the city, traffic flowed smoothly and they arrived at Melissa’s beach house shortly after 1 p.m. Seeing the row of top of the line cars in the driveway including a Porsche that made Fin’s mouth water, he was glad he decided to borrow Ken and Alejandro’s. Rita made introductions as easily as if she’d been introducing him for months and he saw more than one subtly raised well groomed brow when he explained what he did for a living, knowing her friends were probably surprised to see people on different sides of the law together. He knew it wasn’t because he was black and she white, because, if he was honest with himself, Fin was surprised at the diversity of the guests. Rita caught him looking at the friends and family of the hosts and sidled up to him with a glass of wine in one hand and a beer in a frosted mug in the other which she handed to him.

“Not exactly the WASP-ish hetero crowd you were expecting, is it?” she murmured. 

He raised the mug to his lips to hide a sheepish smile and lifted a shoulder noncommittally.

After the meal, Rita retreated to the edge of the yard leading to the sand as the children in attendance began to run around, playing with the dogs. Fin followed, with a cup of coffee in his hand. He had stopped drinking since he was driving. She still had a glass of wine in hers but wasn’t intoxicated as far as his trained eye could tell. Maybe just a little buzzed, making her more relaxed and prone to smiling more. He liked when she smiled

“Are they always so loud?” Rita asked.

“Dogs or kids?” Fin asked, leaning against a stone wall that separated the lawn from the sand, his back to the sea.

“Both.” She laughed. “I don’t have experience with either.”

“The answer is yes. To both.”

“I know you have a son, but you have a dog too?”

Rita moved closer, so he blocked the air coming in off the water. Without heels she had to tip her head back to look at him. Giorgio’s escape that morning, made her forget her sweater and with the sun starting to set, it was getting cooler. Fin shook his head.

“Used to. No time these days. I’m not home enough and that’s not fair to the dog.”

“That’s why it’s good that cats are more independent. Most days, Georgie only cares whether his food bowl is full and his cat box clean. But he’s a nice footwarmer in the winter.”

She shivered as another gust of damp sea air ruffled the sleeves of her blouse.

“Cold?”

“Yes,” she admitted, putting her wineglass on the wall and rubbing her arms. “Damn cat made me forget my sweater. We can go inside. It will be warmer there.”

The pair watched a handful of children run, laughing, into the house.

“Louder too. Here.”

Fin removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders. It was warm from his body and again she enjoyed the scent of his cologne.

“Thank you.”

She was still wearing Fin’s jacket when he walked her to her front door later that night. They turned to face each other under the glow of the lights on either side of the portal. 

“Thank you, Odafin,” Rita said. “Like I said I owe you one.”

“You’re welcome. I had a good time.”

She watched as his eyes, which looked dark brown at night, crinkled at the edges when he smiled while he spoke.

“Yes,” Rita agreed. “So did I. It was —“ she paused, looking for a more descriptive word but couldn’t come up with one while she was looking into his eyes and smelling his cologne on his jacket. “It was nice.”

“Yeah. It was.”

She slipped out of his jacket and handed it to him. 

“Thanks for this too.”

“No problem. That’s what dates are for, right?”

They stood there looking at each other and Fin had the vague feeling of being a teenager again, standing on his dates stoop and wondering if she would let him kiss her good night. Before he could contemplate it further, Rita went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Good night, Odafin,” she said, and swiftly unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it quietly. 

“‘Night, Rita,” he said softly. He waited until he heard the deadbolt slide home on the other side, then turned and went down the steps to the car


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita's bestie shows up to get the tea about the non-date and both she and Fin try and figure out what they're feeling about each other.

Incessant knocking woke Rita the next morning. She opened one eye to the clock and immediately closed it again. Sunday was the one day she allowed herself to sleep in. The cat knew it. Why was he pawing at the cabinet where she kept his food?

“Georgie, if you don’t stop it, I swear -- “ 

She broke off when she felt a furry head butt her hand. It wasn’t the cat knocking. There was someone at her front door. Muttering curses at whomever it was, she threw back the covers and got out of bed, pulling on her robe as she walked to the door, Giorgio running beside her. Recognizing the silhouette on the other side of the frosted pane of glass, she yanked it open and greeted the only person in the world she would speak to that way.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Good morning to you, too, Rita,” said Rafael, giving her a toothy smile before shouldering past her into the house.

Closing the door, she trailed behind him, tightening the belt on her robe and sniffing the air appreciatively. 

“Did you bring  _ pastelitos _ ?”

“Not Mom’s, but they’re almost as good.”

He put the bag he was carrying on her granite counter and moved to switch on her coffee maker, moving as familiarly as he did in his own or Olivia’s apartments. His former classmate pouted slightly for a moment that they weren’t Lucia’s, but opened the bag and put one each of the flaky crusted fruit filled pastries on the plates Rafael got from the cupboard.

“So,” he said, pouring coffee into two mugs and sliding one across the counter to her, knowing, like him, she would drink it black with the sweet turnovers. “How was your date?”

Rita glared at him since her mouth was full and when she had swallowed retorted.    
  
“It wasn’t a date, Barba.”

“You were wearing Fin’s jacket on the beach. Looked like a date to me.”

Rafael grinned and took a large bite of his own breakfast.

“Wait, what?” Rita sputtered. “How did you?”

He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and after a few thumb movements, turned it toward her. Melissa’s Facebook page was full of photos from the day before, including one of her and Fin sitting with others on the beach around a fire someone built. 

“You and the detective look pretty cozy,” Rafael teased once his mouth was empty.

“It was cold on the beach and I forgot my sweater because Giorgio got out when we were leaving.”

Even to her own ears, it sounded like an excuse and they had been sitting rather close. She remembered feeling his thigh pressed against hers. Seating was on handcrafted wooden benches and when someone sat down on the other side of Fin, it had shifted on the sand and he’d reached out and put his hand at the back of her waist to keep her steady. Rafael shrugged, and took another bite. Out of curiosity, Rita scrolled through the rest of the photos to see if she and the detective were in any of the other ones. She was a little disappointed to discover they weren’t. Putting the phone down on the counter, she picked up her coffee and plate and walked to the living area and sat down on the couch. It was too early to be cross examined by Rafael Barba standing up. He put a second  _ pastelito  _ on his plate, topped off his coffee and followed. Deciding to go on the offensive to try and distract her friend, Rita said,

“How are you here on a Sunday morning? Shouldn’t you be at brunch with your mom? Or at a t-ball game?”

He shook his head, mouth full of pastry once again. Then,

“No. No games on holiday weekends. And my beloved is the one who sent me. She wanted to know about your date as well.”

He looked at her over the rim of his cup, the edge of his mouth tipping up in a smile she knew all too well. Rita sighed.

“I told you, Rafi, it wasn’t a real date. Do you really think Odafin is my type?”

As soon as the name passed her lips, Rita knew she was screwed and took a bite of her own breakfast to avoid saying anything else. Rafael choked slightly on his coffee at the sound of Fin’s given name. He wasn’t even sure if he had ever heard it before. Quickly recovering, he raised an eyebrow.

“Odafin? You’re on that kind of first name basis? Yes, I do think he’s your type. Tall, older, a little mysterious. And before you try and tell me you don’t date cops, I’ll remind you about Tucker.”

Knowing that his friend had dated Tucker had only added to the hurt he felt when he found out Olivia was in a relationship with the IAB lieutenant. He had known, better than she, that the man was not what she was looking for in a relationship. Rafael knew from Rita’s experience, that Tucker wanted a woman at home, in an apron cooking dinner, not in the courtroom or heading a police squad. Rafael had been surprised it took him as long as it did to start to pressure Olivia to retire. But he knew as soon as he did, that would be the end of it for the SVU leader. And it was. After he and Olivia were dating for a while she admitted to him she’d been surprised Tucket was so controlling. He didn’t tell her he already knew that. Rita took a sip from her cup before replying, knowing that the man licking filling from his fingertip would only accept the truth and know if she was lying.

“Okay, so maybe he is a little bit of my type. And maybe I did have a good time with him. He was a gentleman and he enjoyed all the children running around more than I did. But I can tell you one thing, I’m sure I’m not  _ his  _ type. He didn’t even try to kiss me good night.”

To Rafael’s ears she sounded a little disappointed. He tried to smooth her ruffled feathers.

“Rita, you just said he was a gentleman. Maybe he doesn’t kiss on the first date. I don’t know enough about Detective Tutuola to know if you’re his type or not. But I can find out what he thought. I’m sure Liv will ask him. Or Carisi or Rollins.”

“Oh my God, this sounds like junior high!” she exclaimed. “Why don’t I just give you a note to give to Liv to give to him that says, ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no.’?”

Rafael chuckled. 

“If you want.”

He was correct that the rest of the SVU squad would ask Fin about his date with the defense attorney. Their commanding officer finally had to put an end to the ribbing and tell everyone to get back to work. But Olivia could tell that her longest co-worker was interested in Rita, because his dimples showed when he talked about her, even though he continued to deny his accompanying her to the party was a date. Then, as days passed, when he volunteered to take files to the courthouse or be the squad’s representative at a trial or arraignment, she knew he was hoping to run into the defense attorney and told Rafael as much. He sent a not so subtle text to his friend, suggesting she should find a reason to pay a visit to the one-six.

Fin was at his desk, cursing the slow day that was forcing him to catch up on paperwork when he heard the click of high heels coming across the room and then a low voice said, 

“Hello, Detective. Haven’t seen you around the courthouse.”

His pulse sped up but he casually turned his chair to face Rita.

“Hi, counselor. I’ve been over there. Just must’ve missed each other.”

Rita couldn’t resist smiling at the thought he had been looking for her, just as Rafael had said.

“Must have.”

“What brings you here?”

“I wanted to talk to Olivia about planning something for Barba’s birthday.”

The ADA’s birthday wasn’t until the following month, but it was the best thing she could come up with since she didn’t have an active case with the SVU squad.

“Well, we’re a little slow right now, so I’m sure she has time to talk to you,” Fin said, motioning toward his lieutenant’s office.

“Good. Nice to see you, Odafin.” 

Rita put a hand on his shoulder as she passed behind him.

Olivia saw through her ruse but she let the other woman talk about planning a party for Rafael. Finally she said quietly, “Rita, I think Fin wants to talk to you again. He keeps looking over here. We can talk about this when it’s closer to Rafael’s birthday.”

“Good enough,” said Rita briskly and stood up. “I’ll be in touch, Olivia.”

“Bye, Rita.”

“Counselor,” Fin said when she drew closer to his desk, “my shift is over in ten minutes. Would you like to join me for a drink?”

The woman paused long enough to make it look like she gave the question some thought. Then she said, 

“That would be lovely, thank you. I’ll make some calls and meet you downstairs?”

“Sure thing.”

As Rita walked away, Carisi and Amanda both turned and gave him pointed looks.

“Shut up. Both of you,” he said.

Promptly ten minutes later Fin exited the elevator on the ground floor and found Rita waiting for him. She had quickly made her calls and ducked into the ladies’ room where she splashed some water on her face, patted it dry and dotted on the barest hint of lipstick. She contemplated removing the barrette that was holding her hair back at the nape of her neck, but decided against it. Didn’t want to make it look like she thought this was a date. He noticed the lipstick and offered her a smile.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Not at all.” 

She tucked her phone on which she’d been window shopping into her purse and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow.

“Lead the way, detective.”

Not wanting to make it seem like it was anything other than them having a drink together, Fin took her to a place he and the squad frequented but led her to a quieter spot away from the crowds so they would be able to talk. Drinks that night led to lunch the next day when Rita’s case recessed early then dinner a few nights later. When Fin put her in a cab after the meal that had stretched into dessert and coffee, he kissed her on the cheek. It was closer to the corner of her mouth, Rita decided on the ride home where the driver had to remind her twice they had arrived. 

The following week couldn’t come fast enough for either of them. The couple had agreed to meet for lunch on Wednesday pending her court schedule. In the morning, Rita texted him that her case was slated to begin the following day so she was free and would meet him at the chosen restaurant. Fin grinned at his phone, feeling a little silly at how eager he was to see the lawyer again. At first, he didn’t think the woman was his type. He’d always thought her to be a little abrasive and unemotional, but he was learning that was her courtroom persona. Outside of the halls of justice, Rita Calhoun had a biting wit, loved her cat as a child and was a sucker for predictable romantic movies on the Hallmark Channel.

When the agreed-upon time came and went and Fin hadn’t appeared at the restaurant yet, Rita wasn’t concerned. New York meant allowing at least a ten minute grace period to account for traffic, transit issues and people walking slowly in front of you texting. When the grace period had extended to 25 minutes and Fin hadn’t replied to her call or text, she began to suspect he got called out of the precinct, so she paid for her ice tea and headed in that direction. But the squad room was empty when she stepped out of the elevator. Neither Fin nor the rest of the SVU squad was there. Rita stopped a young uniformed officer and asked him if he knew where they were. He said they had responded to a call at the residence of a current victim who had a restraining order against her assailant.

She called Rafael, wondering if he knew more and if it was a dangerous situation, because inexplicably, she felt the need to know Fin was safe. Her friend said to come to his office and he’d fill her in. The ride from the one-six to Hogan Place had never seemed longer. As Rita walked into the ADA’s office, she could hear what sounded like voices coming over a police radio frequency. He was seated at his desk in shirtsleeves, laptop open, but not in use. His attention was focused on his phone. Rafael motioned for her to close the door and reached for the phone to lower the volume. It was from its speaker the voices were emanating. He waved it at her.

“Police scanner app. Liv doesn’t know I have it, because she wouldn’t want me to listen, but it gives me a little peace of mind so I’m not wondering what’s going on,” he explained.

“So you know what’s going on? Odafin and I were supposed to have lunch but when he never showed up I went to the precinct and some young uni told me why they’d been called out.”

Rita pulled a chair closer to his desk and sat down.

“Are they all right? I heard the words potential weapons I came in.”

“Yes, the perp broke into the victims house and they think he has at least one gun with him. S.W.A.T. is there with them too.”

“S.W.A.T? So Odafin won’t go into that house then? And Olivia and the rest of them, of course,” she amended when Rafael raised an eyebrow at the second time she said the detective’s name.

“It’s okay, Rita. You’re allowed to be concerned about Fin. Why do you think I listen to this? So I know Liv is safe. Sometimes it’s hard to listen to and sometimes -- “ he broke off suddenly as they heard the words,

“SHOTS FIRED! Shots fired from the house!”

And then silence.

“What’s going on?” 

Rita grabbed the phone and pressed the button to increase the volume but it remained silent. Rafael took it from her.

“And sometimes they go to a private channel when things like that happen. Liv will let me know,” he paused. “Let me know if everything is okay. 

“If?”

“Don’t worry about Fin. He knows how to take care of himself. They all do,” Rafael assured her.

Rita didn’t reply. She stood and moved to look out the window, chewing on her lip.

“Rita, stop. You’ll crack your lip open.”

He knew his friend too well. Before she could reply, his phone registered an incoming text.

“There’s Liv,” he said, picking it up. “I told you, everything is okay -- oh.”

“Oh? What oh?” she demanded, moving to his side to see his phone. He lowered it to his side, out of her sight. “Dammit, Barba, what’s going on?”

“Hang on.” 

He punched Olivia’s contact name and her pre-programmed number began to ring.

“Liv? Yes, I got your text. You’re okay? Good. Yes, she’s here with me actually.”

“What?” Rita asked. “Why is she asking you that?”

He waved at her to shush and turned slightly away. The sirens in the background of the call made it hard enough to hear without her interrupting.

“All right, I’ll let her know.” He listened for another minute and then his voice softened. “Me too.”

Rafael turned back to the woman who had crossed her arms across her chest and was glaring at him.

“Rita,” he said, deciding not to mince words, because that would just annoy her more, “Fin’s been shot.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita goes to the hospital to see if Fin is okay and they realize their feelings are mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final (and longest) chapter about how my new favorite ship set sail in my SVUniverse. I realized when I was writing this that I managed to hit two tropes I'd never written before: fake date and injured/sick care taking. It took me a little while to finish this before these two took their own sweet time getting to the good part and sometimes you just have to let the characters lead the way.

“Shot?”

“Liv doesn’t think it’s bad, but they’re taking him to the ER. She wanted me to let you know because she knew you two had a lunch date. She wasn’t sure if you were still waiting for him at the restaurant.”

“Shot?” she repeated. “Odafin was shot? Where? I thought they all wear vests, Barba?”

  
Rita was outwardly calm but her heart was racing. She was going to kiss the man today after lunch come hell or high water and he had to go and get himself shot. She wasn’t sure if she was more angry or upset.

“I don’t know where, Rita. Liv had to go. Do you want me to take you to the ER?” Rafael offered. “I wouldn’t mind going myself to make sure she’s okay. She likes to tell me she’s fine; regardless.”

He could see his friend internally warring with herself. He knew she and the detective were still in early days of trying to see if they wanted to pursue a relationship and that she was afraid if she went there was a possibility that Fin might not welcome her concern. Rafael put a hand on her arm.

“Rita. I know you have feelings for him. It’s okay to want to go.”

She nodded her head.

“Let’s go.”

At the hospital, Olivia was waiting for them outside the automatic doors. Her kevlar vest was slung over her arm and she was leaning against a pillar, sending a text to Lucy to let her know she was okay in case the news reported an officer had been shot. When the pair exited the cab, she dropped the vest to the ground and hurried toward them. She and Rafael stopped within arms’ reach of each other and Rita continued toward the entrance to allow them a moment of privacy for an embrace. 

“Are you really okay,  _ mi amor _ ?” Rafael murmured in her ear as he held her close.

“A little shaken, seeing Fin get hit, but yes. I am.” 

Olivia took a few seconds to enjoy the comfort of his arms, then backed out of them. They had disclosed their relationship, but didn’t allow public displays of affection often. 

“Come on, I’ll take Rita to Fin,” she said, and led the way into the emergency department, taking her vest from the other woman who had picked it up from the ground.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Those really are heavy.”

“You should have felt them twenty years ago.”

Inside the building, the SVU leader led the way back through the department, followed by the two lawyers. With her badge displayed, no one questioned them. She came to a stop outside a cubicle that had the door open, but the privacy curtain pulled.

“Fin, you decent?” his commanding officer called. She got a snort in reply, which she took as confirmation he was. Olivia turned to Rafael and Rita and said quietly, “He’s a little grouchy.”

“I heard that,” said Fin from the other side of the curtain. “Who’re you talkin’ to?”

Before she could pull back the curtain, Rafael’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.

“I have to take this. Tell him I’m glad he’s okay.”

He pecked Olivia on the cheek and left, making his way back out of the department, leaving the two women standing there. 

“Are you comin’ in here or not? I need to ask you somethin’,” Fin’s voice came again.

Olivia reached for the curtain and pulled it back so she and Rita could step into the room. He began talking again before he realized she wasn’t alone.

“Liv, they gave me pain meds with the hard stuff in it and now they won’t let me go home by myself. Can you tell them it’s okay — Rita! What are you doing here?”

He reached for the sheet covering his lap and pulled it higher even though he still wore his trousers under the hospital gown. He had told them it was his arm that was hurt and nothing but his shirt needed to come off. Rita looked at him, taking in the bandage wrapped around the upper part of his left arm and his bloodied and torn shirt laying on a nearby counter. So great was her relief he was not seriously injured, she wanted to fling her arms around him. But mindful of his commanding officer beside her, settled for answering his question.

“When you stood me up, I went to the precinct and found out where you’d gone. I was with Barba when he found out what happened.”

“I’m sorry about lunch. I should have let you know but it went down so fast.” 

He went to raise his injured arm and extend his hand to her so she’d come closer, but winced and lowered it to his lap. Rita stepped closer to the bed and put her hand on his uninjured one. Her palm was warm against his skin. With her other hand, she grasped his.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Odafin,” Rita said softly. Then she turned to Olivia. “If he needs someone to take him home, I can do it. I’m sure you have paperwork and debriefings to deal with after an officer involved shooting. Tucker is probably camped out in your office already.”

The women’s eyes met and exchanged a glance of understanding. About both Tucker and the man in the hospital gown. The lieutenant nodded. 

“You’re probably right. I’ll leave Fin in your capable hands then,” she said, then looked at him. “I don’t want to see you tomorrow. Maybe even take Friday. It’s not like you don’t have the time.”

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Don’t make me make it an order, Fin.”

“You sound like Cragen when you talk like that,” he told her with a scowl.

Olivia flashed him a smile at the compliment, her eyes twinkling. Then her eyes dropped briefly to their hands, still clasped and she offered them a little nod, before turning to leave, passing the nurse as she did so.

Many signed papers later, along with three doses of pain pills and instructions to get that prescription and one for an antibiotic filled, Fin and Rita exited the hospital to the waiting car she’d summoned. He was wearing his NYPD jacket over the hospital gown. He’d wanted to put his dress shirt back on; ironically the light green one he’d worn to the party and chosen that morning because of their lunch date, but Rita put her foot down and the nurse backed her up. The shirt went into the trash can of biological waste to be incinerated while Fin frowned. Inside the car, he put his head back and closed his eyes.

“I don’t care if you sleep on the way home, but tell the driver where to go first,” Rita told him. “I don’t know your address.”

Without opening his eyes, Fin rattled off his address. The numbing injection they’d given him before administering the stitches was wearing off; as was the painkiller shot and his arm was beginning to throb. He adjusted it gently into a more comfortable position and tried not to wince with the stops and starts as they made their way through traffic. The next thing he knew, Rita was speaking to him again, her hand on his shoulder.

“We’re at your apartment.”

At first, when they entered the lobby she was afraid there was no elevator, or if there wasn’t, she hoped he didn’t live any higher than the third floor. She had no concerns about making it up stairs, but Fin looked like the medication given him at the hospital and his adrenaline was wearing off. But then they turned the corner and there was an old fashioned, but functional looking elevator. The doors opened as soon as she pressed the call button and he let her enter first, following slowly and then leaning against the wall with his good arm, eyes closed.

“What floor?”

“What? Oh. Six.”

Rita pressed the number and said a prayer of thanks for the elevator as it began its ascent. As it climbed, she spoke again.

“Odafin, do you have your keys?”

He patted his pockets, then went to reach into the one on the side of his injured arm and stopped.

“Shit. That hurts. You’re gonna have to get them.”

The man turned and lifted up the hospital gown and she got a glimpse of firm abs with a dusting of dark hair leading into the waist of his pants behind his belt buckle. Rita swallowed and hoped her face didn’t look as warm as it felt. She slid her hand into his pocket. Why were men’s pockets so deep, she thought. Through the fabric, she could feel the heat of his skin. She wiggled her fingers, hoping to feel the metal of a ring of keys and brushed over his inner thigh, grazing a sensitive part of his anatomy that had him inhale sharply.

“That’s not my keys, counselor.”

Fin’s voice was husky and she chalked it up to pain and plunged her hand deeper into the pocket, finally finding the keys and quickly removing them as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. She followed him to his apartment and he took the keys from her, brushing her fingers as he did so; the gesture making her remember what part of his body her fingers had just unintentionally touched and sent a flush of heat through her.

Once inside his home, Fin headed for his bedroom without a word, wanting to take off the ridiculous hospital gown. Rita didn’t follow, but put her bag and the paperwork and pills from the hospital down on a nearby table and took in the main room of the apartment. It was an open area that was dominated by comfortable looking furniture and a large flat screen television on the wall that wasn’t all windows. The kitchen was modestly equipped and tidy. She was wondering if she should stay when she heard a muffled string of curses.

“Odafin?” she called. “Are you all right?”

She couldn’t make out his reply, so she walked down the short hallway where there were three doors. One was open to a bathroom, another to a small room that housed a desk with a computer and an oversized armchair. The third door was partly closed. Rita knocked on it.

“Odafin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?”

“No, dammit. Can’t get my shirt on.”

“Do you want some help?”

“No, but I need some.”

Rita smiled at his grudging admission.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

She pushed the door open and bit back another smile. He was seated on his bed. He’d managed to change his trousers and was wearing a pair of sweatpants with NYPD down the leg. But only his head and uninjured arm were through the appropriate openings of a faded Property of NYPD t shirt and he was scowling. She assumed it was too painful to work the arm with the bullet wound through the other sleeve. After a moment of contemplation, she approached him and said, 

“It might be easier to put your bad arm through the sleeve first. May I?”

He nodded. She reached out and grasped the hem of the shirt. It was soft under her fingers and she lifted it so he could take his good arm out of its sleeve and then pulled it off over his head. Bunching up the opposite arm opening, she held it out near his hand which was resting on his leg. He put it in and she pulled it up his arm and over the bandage as gently as she could until it was over his shoulder and then pulled it over his head. He lifted his good arm and put it through the other sleeve, then helped her pull the shirt down over his chest, at which she had successfully avoided looking even though her fingers had brushed over the sprinkling of hair on it.

“Thanks.”

Fin’s eyes met hers. Rita was standing between his legs and she put her hands on his shoulders to smooth out an imaginary wrinkle in the t-shirt and left them there.

“You’re welcome.”

_ Now or never, Calhoun,  _ she thought and then bent her head to kiss him. He returned the kiss, putting the palm of his good arm against her hip curling his fingers around it. Rita’s heart was pounding when their lips parted. Fin’s eyes were looking more green than brown and he offered her a cheeky grin, both dimples showing, before sliding his hand to her waist where he gave it a squeeze before saying,

“‘Bout time, counselor.”

“No one was stopping you, detective,” she countered with a raised eyebrow.

“Zat so?” 

The hand at her waist moved so he could curl his arm around it and pull her down to sit on his thigh before initiating a second kiss; this one with a little more heat than the first. He swiped his tongue across her lower lip, requesting access to her mouth, which she readily granted, running her hands across the muscles of his back and pulling him closer. Fin moved to raise his other arm to cradle her face with his hand and stopped, breaking off the kiss with a groan of pain.

“Damn.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he growled. “Not when I can’t touch you the way I want.”

His words made her stomach jump with pleasure at the thought of him wanting to touch her. Rita put her palm to his face instead and kissed him again gently. Now that they’d established their mutual physical interest, they could take their time.

“We have plenty of time for that. Why don’t I get you one of the pain pills?”

Fin gave her a heated look that said he’d bookmarked that thought and rose to his feet, easily lifting her to standing as well.

“I’m not going to bed like some invalid. ‘Sides, we missed lunch. I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

Any hunger Rita had earlier, had been driven away by concern when she heard what happened. But now, knowing he was safe she realized she too, could eat. She nodded.

“You cook? Because I don’t. And you probably should eat something with the pill.”

“Nah. But I’m a pro at takeout.” His dimples flashed.

Keeping his hand at her waist, Fin led her back to the living area.

Food and the medication that took the edge off the pain of his wound soon had the injured detective relaxed and sleepy. 

“You stayin’ for awhile?” he asked. “I think those pain meds are workin’ because I’m gonna’ fall asleep.”

Rita had already emailed her office to let them know she was taking the rest of the day off.

“If you want me to.”

They were sitting side by side on the couch and he reached down between the cushions and released a lever and the bottom went up, raising their legs and reclining the back slightly.

“C’mere then,” Fin said, lifting his good arm. 

She kicked her shoes off and let them fall to the floor. Then she scooted over so she could snuggle against his side with his arm around her. He handed her the television remote. He had turned on a sports news station but even that wasn’t keeping him awake. Rita picked it up and was scrolling through the guide when she heard his breathing even out and his body relax under her.  _ Good _ , she thought.  _ He needs the rest to heal.  _ She saw one of her favorite movies being rerun on the Hallmark Channel, but she wasn’t ready to reveal that part of her personality to Fin just yet, so Rita settled on a cooking show. She didn’t cook, but she enjoyed watching other people do it. She watched the show with half attention because she was thinking about the man with his arm around her. She wondered if he’d been shot before, because he seemed so nonchalant about it. She’d done her research; she knew he’d been in the Army before becoming an NYPD officer and worked narcotics prior to moving to SVU. Before long, the warmth of Fin’s body had her eyes closing as well. When she opened them again, Rita was alone on the couch and surprised he’d gotten up without waking her. She wondered where he was and then heard the shower running. Getting up from the couch, she made her way down the hall.

“Are you supposed to get those stitches wet?” she asked through the closed door.

It opened to reveal him wearing only his sweatpants. He’d just managed to struggle out of his t-shirt when he heard her voice. He had hoped to get showered before she woke. Rita’s eyes danced over his bare chest and arms, appreciating his musculature and saw he’d removed the bandage.

“Technically no. But they don’t clean you up so well in the ER.” 

He indicated the dried blood on his skin.

“I was just going to wash around them for now. I think I can manage that,” Fin said. Then added with a flash of his dimples. “Unless you want to help?”

Rita stepped forward and placed her hand in the center of his chest on the small patch of curly dark hair. 

“I think I’ll pass,” she said, glancing over his shoulder at the tub/shower combination. “This time.” 

She trailed her fingers down over his abs and stopped at the elastic waist of his sweatpants. The muscles contracted and his eyes darkened as they met hers.

“My shower is bigger, anyway.”

Fin reached down and grasped her hand, tugging her closer until their bodies were touching and she could feel the beginnings of his erection against her hip. This close and barefoot, she had to tip her head back to look at him now. He had woken up in that state, having been dreaming about the kisses they’d shared earlier, and hoped a shower would take care of it. But now, the woman whose scent had filled his nose when they were on the couch was teasing him about showering together and he wanted her to know what she was doing to him.

“You sure?” he asked, in that same husky tone he’d used when her hand had been in his pocket.

Rita was a fan of shower sex. A big fan, in fact, but she knew with the height difference he would need to pick her up and until his arm was healed, that wouldn’t be possible. No, if they were going to take that next step any time soon, it would need to be in a more horizontal position.

“I’m sure.”

She reached up and pulled his head down so she could nip at his earlobe before whispering.

“Get your shower, detective.”

Then Rita turned and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, her heart pounding. She wanted the man on the other side and he wanted her too. She just needed to decide if it was going to be today. There was a small powder room right inside the apartment door and she gathered her bag and crossed the living area to it. Her reflection showed her that her face and neck were flushed. She had already shed her suit jacket and was left wearing her blouse and pants. Clipping up her hair she splashed some water on her face and patted it dry. Then she rummaged in her bag for the travel sized bottle of mouthwash she carried. It didn’t do to be breathing Kung Pao Chicken on a witness. Then a quick brush through her hair, which she left down, she removed the chunky necklace she always wore with that pant suit and opened the top button of her blouse.

She had just exited the bathroom and returned her bag to the table when she heard the other bathroom door open and glanced down the hall. Fin came out wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his waist. Droplets of water clung to the right side of his torso; he clearly had difficulty wielding the towel with both arms. Their eyes met and then he disappeared into his bedroom. Rita traveled the short distance and stopped at the bathroom that was still steamy and smelled of his soap to grab a second towel. Then she followed him into his room. 

"Need some help drying off?"

He was standing there waiting, as if he had known what she would do, and turned around presenting his back to her. Rita took the towel she was holding and dried it, pressed a line of open mouthed kisses down his spine. Then she walked around to stand before him and dried off his chest and shoulders, again her lips following the path of the towel. When she reached his left shoulder, she noticed there was a spot where the skin was discolored and scarred. She realized it was opposite a similar mark on his back and kissed that spot specifically then looked up at him. 

"You've been shot before?"

Fin nodded. 

"In oh-four. Bodega robbery gone wrong. Nicked an artery."

She shivered at the thought, concern showing in her eyes. 

"Hey, that was a long time ago. And a lot worse than today was." 

He lifted his left arm deliberately to caress her cheek, hiding his discomfort, which was still mostly dulled by the pain medication. 

"This is nothing.”

Both hands moved to the front of her blouse and his large fingers fumbled with the small pearl buttons. Rita untucked it from her pants and brushed his hands away.

“Let me.”

Holding eye contact with him, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse to reveal the lace trimmed bra beneath. Fin then pushed the silky fabric from her shoulders and down and off her arms, tossing it onto the nearby dresser. Then with an index finger traced her bra strap from her collar bone down and across the swell of her breast.

“Your panties match?”

He suspected they would. She seemed like the kind of woman who wore not just matching colors but matching sets of underwear.

“They do. Would you like to see?”

The front of Fin’s towel moved as his body responded to her question. When he was in the shower, he’d contemplated taking care of his earlier reaction to her but decided against it, on the off chance something developed. While his stamina was still very good for his age, his recovery time was longer than it used to be. So he’d washed up quickly, avoiding handling himself any more than necessary, and as a result his arousal had continued to increase as they’d touched each other and the towel wasn’t hiding much. Rita glanced downward and then back up.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rita unfastened her trousers and pushed them down over her hips, bending to step out of them, giving him a good view of her breasts as they threatened to overflow their confinement. She placed them with her blouse.

Fin’s hands found her waist and pulled her close, bending his head to capture her mouth with his. He’d had enough teasing. She gasped against his lips at the feel of his full erection against her and he took advantage of her open mouth to plunge his tongue into it. Recovering, Rita returned the action, tasting him as he tasted her; noticing he had either brushed his teeth or used mouthwash as well. Then she felt his hands at her back and the hooks of her bra being undone. Not removing his mouth from hers, Fin drew the straps down, freeing her breasts, dropping it on the floor between them. Then each hand was caressing and kneading the soft globes, brushing his thumbs across her nipples, making them harden and sending waves of electric sensations through Rita’s body. Her hands clutched at his back as she rocked her hips against his, then took one of his hands and guided it between her legs. Fin could feel her wetness through the lace and satin.

He turned them and guided her backwards to the bed and dropping a knee onto it to lower her down onto the cool sheets. Rita wondered briefly when he’d pulled back the comforter, but the thought left her head when Fin tugged at her panties and she lifted her hips to help him remove them. Inexplicably, his towel was still secure and she reached for it, loosening it so it fell away, revealing him to her. She couldn’t resist curling her hand around his length and giving him a slow stroke up and back down. He groaned and she stopped.

“Are you all right?”

“Baby, I am more than all right. That was pleasure, not pain,” he assured her, slipping his hand back between her legs, his fingers seeking her sensitive nub. 

When he found it, she closed her eyes and arched into his touch. But then she felt him shift and realized he was trying to hold his weight off of her with his injured arm. Rita pushed at his good shoulder to get him to roll onto his back and she moved to straddle his thighs.

“Hope you don’t mind a woman on top, detective.”

“Never, counselor.”

She put one hand on either side of his head and bent to kiss him, her hair hanging in a curtain around both their faces, while rolling her hips against his. His hands ran up and down the outsides of her thighs, pausing to knead her ass cheeks and pull her tighter against him. While he could still think coherently, Fin moved his hands to push the hair from her face and meet her eyes. 

“In the drawer,” he said, a little breathless.

“Condoms? Not for birth control,” Rita said. “Unless there’s something you’re concerned about.” 

“Not me. You?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I was, Odafin.”

Her eyes were serious and he admired her honesty for a moment before pulling her head down for a searing kiss and then said, 

“Then if you don’t do something, Rita, I’m going to roll you over, arm or not.”

Without a word, she rose up on her knees, reached down to position him at her entrance and sank down, sheathing him within her wet, heated walls. Now it was his turn to close his eyes and arch up, pushing deeper inside her, hitting a spot that made Rita moan involuntarily. 

“Again.”

He repeated the motion, grasping her hips with both hands, holding her in place while he thrusted into her several times. She clenched her walls around him, and tried to grind her pelvis against his, seeking some external friction. Fin was close but he believed in ladies’ first, so he moved one hand between them and the other to a breast to tease a nipple.

“Fuck, yes. Yes,” she encouraged him, tightening her legs around his hips and riding him harder.

“Come for me, baby,” he crooned, moving his fingers faster and feeling her start to contract around him

“God, yes. Yes!”

Rita fell over the orgasmic edge and Fin allowed himself to follow with a groan. She collapsed onto his chest, breathing hard. Lifting her head, she kissed him passionately then rolled off of him onto his good side, resting her head on his shoulder and a palm on his now sweaty chest that was rising and falling quickly as he came down from their shared high. She needed to go to the bathroom but didn’t want him to think she was running away. So she pushed up on her elbow. He met her gaze as she moved.

“I think we can safely say this is the start of something, detective,” Rita said with a soft smile.

He showed her his dimples with an equally soft smile in return and covered her hand on her chest with his.

“I agree, counselor. I agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this. You can find me on tumblr and twitter under the same handle. If anyone has any prompts for these two, please let me know! Thanks for reading!


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